


Polaroid Memories

by SarkaS



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awkward Crush, Childhood Memories, Christmas, Disney shaped us all, First Kiss, Hale Family Feels, M/M, Not Beta Read, more or less
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 09:33:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5823484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarkaS/pseuds/SarkaS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is waiting for stiles in his room, he finds something that brings out almost forgotten memory. That time in the Preserve wasn't the first time he and Stiles met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Polaroid Memories

Derek is bored. He’s been waiting for Stiles in his room - and no, it’s not creepy, Stiles, shut the fuck up, it’s necessary - for what feels like forever. That idiot probably got himself detention. Again. Bloody typical. In the middle of the territorial dispute with pixies and he chooses to waste more time than he has to in school. But back to the point. Derek is bored, and he already read all the books and comics Stiles has displayed in his room, because this is so not the first time Derek has to wait for him. For _hours_. Like he doesn’t have better things to do with his time. 

He ends up going through displayed photos on one of the bookshelves. Stiles has a lot of them, all cramped together in the small place, most of them dusty, except for the first row, which was probably cleaned for show. Not a surprise, since this still is a teenager’s room. There are few he knows pretty well by now. Sheriff in not-so-bad Christmas sweater. Four or five years old Stiles riding a bike with his mom cheering happily, both totally oblivious to being photographed by the sheriff, probably. Stiles and Scott on a beach, both gangly with toothy smiles plastered on their still mostly baby faces. Old lady with ridiculously huge glasses cooking in a bright blue kitchen, who, Derek guesses, must be Stiles’ grandmother. 

But there are more. Photos behind photos behind photos. School photos, which are probably the only ones Stiles has where he shares frame with Lydia, more photos with Scott and Melissa and Stiles’ dad. Another one with his mom, sitting on a sofa with blanket over her legs, reading a batman comic. There is even something Derek would call a pack photo. It’s Erica, Isaac, Boyd and Scott all looking like their teeth are hurting, except Erica who is giving the photographer - probably Stiles - a huge predatory grin all sharp teeth and promise of something nasty. Mostly fake, Derek would bet his car. He took that one in hand, taking closer look at their faces. They’ve changed so much in past two years, but it all seemed so natural, Derek didn’t even notice it most of the time. Until something reminded him how they all were at the beginning, like just now. 

Derek almost missed it, it was just a polaroid picture, not even framed, tucked safely behind the pack photo. He blinked. And then he blinked again few times, because what?

It was Stiles… and _Derek_? Stiles was clearly very young, when the picture was taken, maybe eight or nine? And he wore reindeer hat. With big red nose on it. A memory of the day, when it was taken, sneaked up on Derek and he suddenly remembered. 

It was their family’s tradition. His mother wanted for them to be part of the society, for people to like them and trust them, so they had to participate in town’s life on many different occasions. Like helping with the whole Santa village thing in the mall. Derek particularly hated that one, since all his classmates tend to spent their time in mall and he had reputation to maintain. His mother refused to discuss it, though. So he ended up helping anyway. 

And he remembered this particular occasion, when this chatty spastic kid refused to go anywhere near Santa, because clearly “he’s creepy. I don’t think I want to sit on his lap. Can I take picture with _him_ instead?” pointing at Derek, who wasn’t even at work that day, he just brought food for Laura and Peter, and ended up staring at this kid in disbelieve, because _what_? Of course Laura said yes, with the sweetest smile she could muster, secretly half choking with laughter. Derek could appreciate it later, when they all laughed at Peter for being the Santa who creeps out small kids, but at that moment, he could only stare and suspiciously await the prank this kid obviously planed to play on him. Except… he didn’t do anything. He looked into the camera, from where his mother wildly gestured for him to smile and then politely thanked Derek, face little awestruck. “What’s your name?” he asked Derek and he was so dumbstrucked he actually told him. Stiles smiled at him. “Close enough. Merry Christmas, Derek.” And then he walked away, like if everything just happened was perfectly normal and ordinary. 

Derek pushed away the memory, but found himself smiling at how perplexed this kid left him back then, and how much that in particular hasn’t changed. 

“Whoa, what the- oh,” Stiles stopped in his tracks, taking in Derek holding the polaroid picture and choking a little, before turning his gaze away and flinging his back on the ground, cheeks pink. 

Derek bit back smile, then hold photo up in one hand. “We laughed at Peter for weeks after that,” he said, not really sure why. 

Stiles looked at him confused, but the awkwardness radiating from him lessened. 

“He was the creepy Santa.”

Stiles stared. “Dude, no.” 

“Yes. And don’t call me ‘dude’.” 

Blinding grin bloomed on Stiles’ face, then he laughed. “I can’t believe I fucking called it ten years prior. This is golden, I have to tell Scott.”

Derek rolled his eyes. Well, he did it in his head, anyway. On the outside he just said: “You are late.”

Stiles rolled his eyes for real. “Coach held us. Also, fuck off,” he grumbled and then pulled out a folder from his school bag. “Here’s everything I could find about territorial disputes with pixies, and some info from emissaries of other packs. Deaton gave me numbers, because he’s obviously too busy to make those calls by himself,” Stiles ended up grumbling. But it was half-hearted at best, since they all knew Stiles is enjoying the ‘emissary duties’ as pack called it. But he was giving sidelong glances to the photo Derek still held between his fingers. 

“Why did you keep it?” he decided to ask against his better judgement. Stiles shrugged noncommittally. “Memories, I guess. Would you just put it back? I thought this pixie thing is urgent. I slept only two and a half hour because of that!”

And suddenly this was much more interesting. Stiles did not usually use guilt-tripping unless he was evading. Also, the fain blush was back on his cheeks. 

“Why did you keep this, Stiles?”

Stiles scowled, but then scoffed with fake nonchalance. “Fine, whatever, stay here for all I care, waste your time. I’m heading to Scott’s anyway.” He turned to leave, but hey, werewolf here. Derek was not above using his supernatural abilities to gain an advantage. Even if it’s only against teenage humans. He crowded Stiles against his bedroom door before he could even try and leave. So sue him, he was curious now. 

“You are such an asshole, Hale,” Stiles hissed face pressed into painted wood. 

“Then just tell me and I’ll leave.”

Stiles was quiet for roughly four seconds and then spat simple but angry “no”. Derek breathed in and frowned. 

“Are you… embarrassed about it?” he asked, incredulous. 

“No,” Stiles spat again. And that… was a lie. 

“You are. Why?” Derek frowned and took a half step back. Stiles briskly turned to face him. 

“That’s none of your fucking business. Now, give me that and just leave, okay?” He seemed seriously angry, now. That wasn’t what Derek wanted. Tease him a little? Sure. He had to wait for him for two hours. But now Stiles seemed truly upset about it. Derek frowned a little and hold the photo for Stiles to take. He did and toss it on the table. But Derek didn’t let him go, yet. 

“Why are-”

“Oh my god! I was eight fucking years old with a crush, Derek! It’s embarrassing enough without you poking at it, so stop, okay?” 

The silence in the room was one of the loudest Derek ever heard. 

“You… had a crush… on me?” 

“What?” Stiles bristled. “No! Not on you, jeez, ego much?” 

Derek’s eyebrows furrowed even more. Than what the hell? Stiles was now full on blushing. Red spots running from his cheeks down his neck and under the collar of his shirt. Derek traced them with an unhealthy fascination. Stiles’ neck has that effect on him. Mostly he managed to ignore it. Sometimes, though…

“I was eight, Derek. Why does it matter to you so much?” Stiles sounded almost tired. Derek shrugged. He had no idea, to be completely honest. It just did. Stiles kept his picture for ten years, he wanted to know why. 

“Fine. Let’s get the humiliation over with,” Stiles sighed and his head made a soft ‘thud’ at the contact with the hard wood of his bedroom door. He wasn’t looking at Derek anymore. “I had crush on prince Eric. Here. You can laugh now.”

“Huh?” Derek made intelligent sound, confused beyond words. Stiles opened his eyes, just a slits. 

“You know? The Disney character? From Ariel? The redhead with a tail? It actually seems like some pretty nasty foreshadowing, when I’m thinking about it. So fucking typical,” he murmured mostly to himself, now. 

“I still don’t get it. What’s that supposed to do with the reason, why you kept this?” Derek asked utterly bemused. 

Stiles gave him sour look. Derek mildly considered presenting him with the nickname Stiles gave him, when they met couple of years ago. He definitely deserved it right now. 

“You serious? My eight years old me was sure no one ever looked more like prince Eric than you did back then. Hence the photo. And I didn’t throw it out, because… well, I don’t know. It’s kind of a cute one. And Scott was totally in awe that I have photo with a high-schooler back then. Also I don’t have any other with you. It’s all stupid, alright?”

“I look like a Disney character?” Derek asked slowly, incredulously. Stiles rolled his eyes. 

“Well, you don’t _now_! Back then? Sure. A little. Maybe,” Stiles squinted at the photo with contemplating expression. For some bizzarre reason it stung Derek. He stomp at the feeling with vigour. 

“So no crushing on me, now?” he decided to tease Stiles instead of dealing with his own fucked up feelings. 

“I don’t have a crush on you!” Stiles barked, scowling. And Derek wanted to laugh at him for being so easily provoked. Except… Stiles’ heart skipped. It _skipped_. 

Derek narrowed his eyes at him and asked, “say it again.” 

Stiles’ own eyes widened. “No.” 

“Stiles. Say it again,” Derek said slowly, leaving no space for refusal. 

“I don’t have a crush on you?” Stiles said, uncertain, more like a question, really. 

“Are you asking me?” Derek arched eyebrows incredulously.

“Yes?” he asked after a moment, hesitant. His brown yes huge in his pale freckled face. Throat moving with a big gulp. When Derek breathed in, his nose filled with Stiles’ scent he knew so well, but there was nervousness in it, confusion, maybe even fear? And underneath of it… arousal? Is that it? Was it for Derek? Or just the ordinary everyday arousal of a teenage boy? He could never tell with Stiles.

“I… think you do,” Derek answered slowly, carefully, watching Stiles’ face. Waiting for it to fall. Maybe for him to push Derek away. Instead Stiles’ shoulders sagged, as if in resignation and he nodded a little. 

“Yeah, I think I do, too.” He didn’t sound particularly surprised by it. Well, he probably couldn’t be. This is not something you can completely hide from yourself. Derek knows, because he tries daily. But does this mean that-

“Good.” He didn’t really mean to say it, but he clearly did. Stiles’ head flew up, he was staring at Derek disbelievingly. Face still flushed, mouth parted in shock. “Good,” Derek repeated, before closing the distance between them and kissing Stiles. 

His last coherent thought, before he got lost in Stiles’ enthusiastic response, was that he has to take a new photo with Stiles. For the first row. But they are keeping this one, too. Now that there is a real reason for it. 

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by this amazing art created by JoelVoice http://were-dragon.tumblr.com/post/123310117248


End file.
